


Papa Prowler in the adventures of fatherhood

by SinfulRaindrop



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, a little angsty, anyone this is basically how every villain adopts Miles because he baby, i mean i killed Miles's parents, in the name of plot!, its going to be cute i promise, not great title, rated T for swearing and minor fighting, the only major characters I'm killing are his parents, unreliable update
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-05-19 09:55:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19354639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinfulRaindrop/pseuds/SinfulRaindrop
Summary: Miles loses his parents when he's young, growing up with Uncle Aaron is a bit of an adventure.aka Miles is the son-friend and every one he meets want to simultaneously parent him until it gets to a point that he had too many super villain parents to count by the time he becomes a spider.





	1. Chapter 1

He received the call just getting home from working for Fisk. It had been a simple guard job this time, not much, it ended up lasting all night and had him trudging home around noon. Exhausted. But working for Fisk gave just a hint more stability that he needed. Jefferson had said he could only see Miles if he had steady work and a decent enough home to babysit in. it was ironic to him that working for the biggest crime lord had managed to make the cut.

But even if the work was some of his shadiest and boring he had done, it paid the bills and allowed for time with his family (something that had been a cuss word for him for a long time after his and Jefferson’s falling out). Getting out of the suit and into clothes he wouldn’t be arrested in (his outfit was so far from subtle but hell was it _aesthetic_ ) took one look at his phone and found 36 missed calls.

The number wasn’t saved.

His phone rang. For a second he had thought they hadn’t stopped ringing him. He answered.

“Aaron Davis? We’ve been trying to reach you” the voice was a woman, on who’s day job must have needed her to be  authoritative.

“Yeah I keep my phone off for work, who are you?”

“My name is Jenn Garcia. I work with NYPD. I’m calling about you brother Jefferson Davis and his wife Rio Morales.” Aaron’s gut dropped, feeling every muscle in his body go rigid.

“What happened?” He managed to keep his voice steady.

“Earlier today Jefferson Davis and his wife ended up in the crossfire of a gang dispute, neither of them have survived,” there was silence, Aaron felt himself sway on his feet, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Miles,” he swallowed, nearly choking around the lump in his throat. “What about Miles.”

“That’s why we’ve been trying to reach you, you are his closest relative, and as such guardianship has passed onto you, however if you feel you are unable to provide care-”

“No! Fuck... yeah I’ll take him,” he ran a hand down his face. His brother was dead and _shit fuck he was_ responcible _for someone now._ “ _Fuck_ , where is he?” He may have been sleep deprived, but he _was responsible for someone now_.

“We have yet to pick him up from his school. Mr. Davis?” he could feel himself grimace at that tone, “May I give you some advice?”

“Not gonna promise to take it.”

“Don’t tell him tonight, he’s young, you don’t want him going to sleep with that on his mind. Give him a good evening, watch a movie, doesn’t matter. Then tell him in the morning, give him a day to process.” there was a pause, it sounded like she was gathering herself, “take some time off work, and listen to what he wants to do.”

“Yeah.”

* * *

 

He ended up doing that. Stopping by the station (wigged him out that he had gone to a police station willingly) then to Jefferson's house, it had been left to him in his brothers will (and if that didn’t make him regret all the stubborn years…) before heading to Miles’s school and explaining to the principal what had happened. There was pity, but also support, _take as many days as he needs_ they said, they would send any homework if it got to that point, but _take your time. If you need any help don’t hesitate._

It was wild, but good. He saved their numbers when they offered them.

And when a hoard of six year olds came out hovering around their teachers he sucked in a breath and steeled himself.

“Hey Miles,” he raised a hand from the office and stepped out to meet him and his teacher.

“Uncle Aaron!!” the kid’s face lit up, grinning as bright as the sun. He felt like a fraud, even as he smiled.

Getting him home was a bit of an event. It was a Thursday though, and he didn’t have school the next day for once. Aaron indulged Miles, what else was he supposed to do? When he asked for ice cream they got it. When he asked to watch a string of disney movies he rented them and they watched them until Miles conked out of his sugar high and fell asleep.

The next morning Aaron made breakfast, could barely make himself eat, then sat Miles down and did his best to explain.

The worst day in his life was made the second he saw the horror fill Miles’s eyes.

He cried and cried and cried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment I live and breath them. also i'm trying to get better as a writer and your commentary really helps me, good and bad.


	2. Kingpin and settling in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Figuring out how things are going to work when you have a mob boss for a boss and a kid you weren't responsible for yesterday.

They spent Friday in misery. Saturday they went to Jeff’s and Rio’s and pack all they could, it was a long day. Sunday they tried to pack more but had to stop when Miles started crying and Aaron found he couldn’t  _ not cry  _ while  _ Miles  _ was crying.

Empathy was a hell of a drug.

Either way, Sunday turned into sad sap day where they got ice cream for lunch and Aaron googled packing companies. He figured they could go through it in smaller inclinations later, so Sunday was buying a storage unit and enough cardboard boxes and hiring a trusted company and brushing his hands of it all. Miles wanted some things though, the quilt that had been draped over Jeff and Rio’s bed (it was a gift from Rio’s mother for their marriage), Rio’s CD collection that she played on the same crappy radio that Jeff had given her as a two month anniversary gift, and a family photo Rio had demanded and Aaron had taken for Miles’ birthday before first grade.

Sunday came close to an end, and Miles begged to go to school Monday.

So Monday morning had Aaron waking up early enough to throw together a breakfast and pack a lunch, it was far from perfect. Miles teared up at the sight of the food but wouldn’t say why.

“You don’t have to go little man, you know that right?” Miles nodded, continuing to eat his breakfast with watery eyes. Aaron frowned, “You can come home anytime, I’ll only be a call away.”

“Okay,” it was the mopiest he had ever heard the kid and it broke his heart, but when he caught the fire behind those big ol’ brown eyes he couldn’t help but feel pride. A helpless kind that made him swell.

“Okay.” 

* * *

 

There was a problem he had been ignoring all weekend. Kingpin. Walking Miles in, with his little shark themed backpack (he remembered the first time Miles had shown it off, Rio had looked suspiciously proud, and Miles had been grinning that thousand watt smile) and cheeks puffed up with determination like he hadn’t cried eating breakfast.  _ God he was tough. _

So with Miles (so very small) hand in his they walked into the chaos that was K-12. Through the building Miles lead him until they stood before a door like all the others.

“Okay.” Miles said with all the huff and determined look of a soldier on a mission.

“Okay?” 

“Mhmm,” Miles nodded, face held in a serious (seriously cute) expression, he let go of Aaron’s hand and made grabby motions to him, “Hug.”

How could he say no? He wasn’t a monster.

Aaron fell to a kneel and swept miles close, crushing the kid to his chest. Miles in turn wound his skinny little arms around his neck and held on as tight as he could.

“I love you, Uncle Aaron.” Aaron took a sharp breath and held it, emotion swelled and threatened to burst forth,  _ how had Jeff managed this? _ He breathed out, squeezed Miles in his arms one last time before pulling away. He held Miles’s face in his hands and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“I love you too, short stack,” Miles let out a snort and whine at the nickname, but nervousness seeped back into his expression, “Hey, I’ll pick you up right after school, and if you need me at all, you remember my number?” Mile gave a nod, “good, call me, I’ll pick up.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

* * *

 

He didn’t make it to his car before he finally got the call. He vaguely felt lucky to have made it through the weekend but annoyance was the prevailing feeling.

“I need time off,” he punctuated the sentence with the slam of his car door, it would be best if he could get an illusion of privacy.

“Time off.” He sounded baffled in that angry way that he approached everything that wasn’t his family.

“Something personal has come up, I need time to deal with it.” honestly it was a bit of a long shot, but he had been working for Fisk for just shy of ten years now and Aaron remembered when Tombstone stopped working for the kingpin and there was nothing said about it. Ten years with no vacations he felt a little entitled to one now.

“I am not happy with the short notice, Prowler.”

“Yeah well neither was I,” Aaron grimaced, the words had come out a lot more aggressive than he intended, but that realisation lead to him sighing and running a hand down his face, which in turn felt like he was just laying out the fact that he was emotionally compromised. He wanted to beat the crap out of something, preferably himself.

“Huh, gotta say Prowler, I didn’t think you had it in you,” he sounded amused.

“What.” Aaron did not.

“A heart.”

“Oh fuck you Fisk.” Thankfully, he laughed.

“You’re lucky Scorpion is available, you have two weeks. Don’t make me wait.” He hung up.

Two weeks, he could work with that.

* * *

 

He spent the rest of the day looking up grief. If it had only been Jeff, Rio would have definitely gotten Miles into therapy. If it had just been Rio, Jeff would have struggled and fumbled and done his best. He felt like he was honoring them both by fumbling through this therapy stuff.

Turns out the five stages of grief were for terminal illness, that grief itself came in different ways and was a ‘healing journey that was different for each person experiencing it’. That sounded fake, but Rio would have chewed him out for saying that.

So he got a list of child therapists and got to work calling them one by one.

* * *

 

Miles met his new therapist by the end of week one. It was a woman by the name Mary Solis who was Afro-Latina (she spoke Spanish, Aaron didn’t really, but Miles did and he wanted him to keep that ability), they had a group meeting for the first ten minutes then he left Miles with her for the next thirty. It was hard, weirdly so, but when Miles came out he was red eyed and sniffly but said ‘see you later’ to Dr. Solis so he counted it as a good meeting. Didn’t mean they didn’t get ice cream afterwards though.

Dr. Solis wanted them to attend a parent child grief counseling as well as see Miles once a week. She talked about a group that met every Tuesday that would be good for them both. Fridays were set aside for Miles’s personal meetings. Mondays were soon filled with a Parenting class that left him feeling less prepared but more aware.

He fell into a routine. But two weeks are much shorter once they’re filled with work and Monday rolled around once again and Fisk had a job.

“How long is this job going to last?” he couldn’t really say no.

“As long as it takes to get it done.”

“I need to be off by 2,” Miles was in class, and he had been doing well the last couple of weeks, he hadn't called during class yet.

“Give me one good reason.”

“I have to pick my kid up from school,” it was a risk, Aaron couldn’t deny that, but he figured Fisk had a son and  _ hopefully _ that meant he got the whole parenting thing. (Aaron barely got the whole parenting thing.)

There was a distinct pause.

“ _ You _ , have a  _ kid. _ ”

“Yes.” No backing out now.

“Since when? This has never stopped you before.”

“Since two weeks ago.” another awkwardly long pause.

“Alright, if you’re fast you can get it done by 2 and Tombstone can cover the rest of the job.”

“Just like that,” he was struggling not to sound hopeful.

“I’m a family man Prowler, I get it,” _ thank god,  _ “You do good work for me,” relatively “and if you need time for a kid then you need time for a kid. But you’re still working for me,” it wasn’t a question.

“Yeah, alright, what’s the job?”

* * *

 

The job was a retrieval. Not of data, or goods, or money. Fisk had sent a punk enforcer to the Russian mob district he had in his pocket, and the poor bastard had underestimated them. He thought being from Kingpin himself would protect him. Now he had missed his check in and it was the Prowler’s job to get whatever the Russian’s left of him and finish his job.

Prowler had gotten in just fine, and found the sorry punk beaten half to death locked in the back of a butcher's freezer (very original). He had sliced free the guys bound hands and feet and had managed to get out far enough to see his bike before they tried their level best to shoot him into oblivion. He threw the punk behind a low wall before rushing the dumb bastards trying to kill him.

It was in the middle of beating dumb Russian ass, that he got the call.

“Hello?” Fisk had most of his agents on a secure Bluetooth calling system, it was more secure and best of all,  _ hands free. _

“U-Uncle Aaron?”  _ aw hell, _ it sounded like Miles had been crying up a storm.

“Hey, what’s wrong little man?” a man rushed him, tire iron up. He slammed his metal gauntlet into the man’s diaphragm then flipped him over his body and kicking him in the face.

“I, I miss you! I’m scared and my stomach hurts, and I can't breath and-”  _ panic attack.  _ The man groaned, he kicked him again.

“Hey, hey take a deep breath with me, can you do that?” a murmured reply was all he got, he took and obnoxiously loud inhale and held it until he heard miles do the same. He ducked into cover as another prick tried to shoot him (thankfully with a silencer, Fisk’s fancy Bluetooth blocked out most sounds but anything too loud miles would hear.) he breathed out.

“Okay, why don’t you tell me what happened?” Miles started babbling, Prowler dove forward, snatching up the tire iron and throwing it at the guy shooting at him. It smashed against his face and he went careening backwards.

“-and I started thinking and I couldn't stop and I just kept thinking you weren’t going to come get me and I got  _ really scared  _ and  _ I can't stop crying _ and-” he cut off in a little sob.

“Miles, hey Miles, breath. In, out, in, out, that’s it,” Miles struggled to wheeze along with Aaron’s directions, “now do you need me to come pick you up?”

“I, I don’t wanna get you in trouble at work.”

“You could never little man, I can be there in forty minutes, that sound good to you?” Miles gave some nervous mumbling, “We can get some ice cream and then watch the Lion King again, you’re allowed to take a sick day kiddo.”

“Okay, yes please.”

“Alright, see you in forty, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Miles hung up, Prowler stood as the door opened and more people came in.

“Let's make this quick.”

* * *

 

Forty-five minutes later he was jogging into Miles’s grade school with more on his mind than he had expected. Fisk had offered him daycare, so Miles could be in the same building he was usually guarding. He would be closer, and Fisk could still use him.

It was a win-win situation.

“Hey Miles how ya doin’?” his only response was watery eyes and arms reaching out. Aaron scooped him up, setting him at his hip, “Alright, where do I sign him out.”

* * *

 

Hours later, when they were settled at home with fast food for lunch Aaron brought it up.

“My boss has offered us use of their day care,”

“What’s that mean?”

“It means that on days that I’m working you could stay at the  _ office _ with me. I could check in on you through the day,” it was weird calling Fisk’s building  _ ‘the office’ _ . He was Fisk’s mercenary, he didn’t work a desk job. “How’s that sound for you?”

Miles looked up from his blanket and pillow nest, eyes droopy with sleep. The kid probably needed a nap, he had been catching a few winks for each movie they had watched only to wake up at the end and ask to watch another one.

“Okay.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man all the comments on this have given me LIFE. i can't promise steady updates but I do plan on several more chapters. Thank you so much for all the Comments! i'd love to hear more from you guys!


	3. Coffee with Tombstone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tombstone's having a bad day, Miles gets lost.

Things were hard. Life was hard, but living with Uncle Aaron was nice. He was different, not like his mom or his dad, but not bad. He was different. They lived somewhere different and it was kinda nice to not have to look at their home and only see where they were. Besides he like living at Uncle Aaron’s place, it was  _ cool. _

“Alright, you going to be okay today?” Uncle Aaron asked they stood outside the daycare room.

“Yup!” Miles popped the ‘p’ with a snarky little grin. He knew how this worked. After school for a few hours he stayed with whoever was watching the daycare for the day and did whatever he needed to do. Usually he did homework, then drew for the rest of the time. Though he didn’t have any homework today. Aaron snorted, reaching out to pat Miles’s head.

“You crack me up kid, alright I love you, I’ll see you soon.”

“K! Love you too!” and with another little pat on the back Miles marched his way into the daycare room. It was pretty simple as far as rooms went, it looked like a converted office space and more often than not there wasn’t any more than a few kids at a time. Today there were two others. He remembered their names, Mac and Liz. neither really liked him that much. And besides, they had already set up near the T.V. with half the toys.

That was fine though. He set up at a low table, pulling out his art book and his _sixty_ _four_ _crayon set_ Uncle Aaron had bought him when he complained about the broken and mismatched ones he had to use at school.

With one last wave for Uncle Aaron (he hovered sometimes, it was kinda funny) he set to work on a drawing. His favorite part of his day was when Miles and Aaron went home and they got to talk about what he had drawn. So he got to work drawing, filling a page with flowers he had learned to draw from a book in school, then he did his best to draw a bunch of buildings that touched the sky. After that he just sketched and scribbled for a few pages.

He lost track of time, and when he finally came back to reality he found their chaperone asleep and the other two kids dozing as Journey Hour played on the T.V.

Miles stared, looked around, and suddenly felt entirely too restless. He packed up his things and put them into one of the little cubbies and wrote his name on the white board to show it was his, then poked around the room for something interesting.

He didn’t want to play with the Connect Blocks, the dolls and action figures were set up in an audience with Mac and Liz, so that was out. he flipped through a few picture books but he had already read them in the time he had been coming here.

He shifted on his feet and huffed quietly, putting his hands on his hips. He didn’t want to wake Jerry, the man who was watching them today (he always looked tired when it was his shift so it seemed rude), but he was board. Miles supposed he could just head to the bathroom, it would get him out of the room for a bit and he did kinda have to go. Mind made up he did his best to be quiet and slipped out of the room.

_ Now which way was it to the bathroom? _

* * *

 

The meetings were annoying and boring and if Tombstone had to stay awake for any more he  _ needed  _ coffee. Even if it was the shitty break room kind that was only two steps above mud. So he marched in there, a sneer on his face that had all the little science nerds running. He took glee from that.

But of course, the coffee maker was empty. Groaning in irritation he set to getting some brewing. The damn thing might as well have been making  _ tar _ it was so goddamn slow. Grumbling he pulled out a mug and enough sugar packets to choke a man to death.

He grabbed a few more.

If he had to drink crappy coffee it better at least be sweet. With another mumble of irritation he pulled out his phone and leaned against the counter, queuing up Sweet Smash to pass the time. 

“Why are you so tall?” Tombstone would deny it to his dying day, but he jumped. He jumped hard. Barely managing to keep his phone from smashing into the ground. 

A kid, who couldn’t be older than seven, was standing not ten feet away from him and he hadn’t heard jack- all about his approach. 

“Where the  _ hell  _ did you come from?!” he said, as the kid frowned.

“That’s a swear,” the kid’s brows were furrowed like he was disappointed.

“I’m an adult, I can swear if I want to,” he snapped with perhaps a bit too much venom for a conversation with a possible seven year old. “Speaking of which where is your adult?”  _ were children even allowed at Alchemax? _

“Jerry fell asleep,” the kid looked troubled with this news.

“And  _ why _ , are you  _ here _ ?”

“I needed to use the bathroom,” he shifted on his feet, “I got lost.”

A snarl built up behind Tombstones teeth. That  _ idiot should not be in charge of children _ . You can’t take your eyes off them for a  _ second  _ or they would do something stupid. He learned that the hard way, one of the few times he had watched Janice.

“So this dumb bastard,” the kid mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like ‘ _ swear’ _ , “is  _ asleep  _ instead of watchin’ ya? Like he’s  _ supposed  _ to?”

The kid gave a vague nod. Tombstone looked to the struggling coffee maker and felt a grin split his face. How nice it would be, to  _ vent a bit _ on someone who  _ deserved it. _

“Well alright kid, why don’t I walk you back. I have a few…  _ words _ for your  _ caretaker _ .”

 

They stopped at the bathroom before heading back to the daycare room that Tombstone only vaguely remembered existing. He could practically feel the sadistic grin grow on his face when he slammed open the door and woke the sleeping  _ caretaker _ . He looked hung over, and watching the color drain from his face was just flat out delightful.

“Well well well, i heard from a little birdy that  _ someone was sleeping on the job,” _ he approached slowly,  _ why rush _ , as the guy’s face fell in fear. He tisked, “Very sloppy.”

The guy lost his shit. He started sputtering out excuses, that ‘ _ the kids were right here and that they were fine and-’ _

“I wasn’t,” the kid was pouting and  _ wasn’t that cute, the kid was backing him. _

“M-Miles where?!”

“There you have it, you messed up,” Tombstone couldn’t stop but grin, “Now why don’t we  _ talk about it, hm?” _

A good twenty minutes later and the twenty year old something looked about ready to fall apart, and Tombstone felt  _ much _ better. He looked back to the kids that were under this fools care, Miles, the kid that had found him, was grinning while the other two seemed to be trying to  _ stay out of it. _

Smart.

“What’s got you so smiley?”

“Thanks for making sure we’re okay!” Tombstone sputtered for a moment, how the kid had come to the conclusion he was doing this for him was ridiculous but well  _ whatever sure. _ He was like a living ball of sunshine.

“Yeah, yeah sure,” he turned to the punk and relished in the whimper,  _ “Keep a better eye on them.” _

“Y-yes Mr. Tombstone s-sir, it won’t happen again I promise.” for one last kick he jerked towards the punk, watching him yelp and flinch back. Snickering he made his way back to the door.

“Have a good day Mr, Tombstone!” Miles gave him an over enthused wave. He returned it with a lazy one and left.

What an entertaining kid.


	4. Prowler

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Its Miles' birthday and Aaron really needs to lock up his mercenary gear.

Six weeks into having Miles under his care and Aaron was  _ terrified  _ of messing up, but also figuring this parenting thing out. The first two weeks had been the hardest. There had been more tears than he had ever seen Miles shed and more sleepless nights than he ever had (when an injury wasn’t involved). The memorial had been the hardest thing Aaron had ever had to endure, probably the worst thing Miles ever endured. The worst of it though was when they would be doing okay one moment and the next he would say or do something, or Miles would, and the kid would dissolve into an inconsolable mess.

Sometimes they both would.

But today was his  _ birthday.  _ He was turning seven, and it was his _ first _ birthday  _ without  _ Rio or Jeff there for him, and Aaron was determined for it not to be a sad day. Miles deserved a carefree birthday to celebrate, have fun, and  _ just be a kid. _

When he had mentioned it to Fisk he had given him the day off, (and wasn’t that a trip. Fisk now  _ knew _ about Miles, and that Aaron was his primary caretaker, and instead of  _ threatening  _ him or using Miles like most  _ bad people  _ would do, he accommodated him. Weekends off, requestable leave, if Miles needed him he was allowed to go,  _ daycare at the  _ **_office_ ** . It was ridiculous, hired muscle wasn’t supposed to be in the system to get  _ retirement benefits. _ ) so he planned for a visit to the Art museum, then lunch at a cafe that Miles had found the name of funny (something he seemed to have picked up from his dad). After that they had dinner at his favorite restaurant, and saw a movie Miles had mentioned. It was a good day, Aaron had to pat himself on the back a bit. Miles hadn’t had the time to be sad.

When they finally got back to the apartment Miles was tired, but a little hungry. Really he just wanted hot chocolate and crackers, so Aaron got to work getting them both a mug and a plate setup for them to snack on. He could probably find a documentary for Miles to fall asleep to and tuck him in later. He wasn’t really tracking Miles’ location.

He regretted that when Miles walked out of his room cradling one of his Prowler gauntlets to his chest. The glove practically dwarfed his torso, the fingers of it curled far too  _ sharp _ around his forearm, the purple glow of it cast shadows on Miles face that had fear lacing through Aaron’s body. The gauntlet looked like every fear he had ever had come to life. Like everything he wanted Miles to have nothing to do with.

“Why do you have monster hands?” it was a drowsy, curious question.

Aaron reacted, lunged forward, and in a blink was grabbing hold of the gauntlet. His brain caught up, and he froze at the sight of Miles’ wide shocked eyes.

“Its… Its not safe for you to hold, let me just,” Miles slowly let go, let the weight of the metal ease from his arms, “Good.”

“Uncle Aaron...?” there was fear in those honey gold eyes, fear, and confusion, and gathering tears. Aaron sucked in a breath as something dark curled in the pit of his stomach.  _ He messed up,  _ he never should have been trusted with Miles,  _ goddamnit Jeff what was he supposed to do?! _

“I’m sorry,” Miles’ voice cut through his clouding thoughts, “I, I’m sorry I just saw it glowing and it was pretty and I didn't mean to make you mad and I won't do it ever again and-”

“Hey, hey no I’m not mad,”  _ fuck he didn’t have time for his own shit right now _ , “Here come on, let’s sit down and take some deep breathes,” Miles sniffled but nodded. Aaron moved with him, setting the claw on the coffee table and moving to get the half finished cups of cocoa from the kitchen.

He needed a minute. He ran a hand down his face and not for the first time in the last six months he regretted. Regretted the life he had chosen, regretted he couldn’t be better for Miles, regretted that his  _ fucking job _ was with a mob boss and not  _ literally anything else that would pay the bills.  _ Regretted that he was in so deep that he would probably drag Miles down with him. 

He took a deep breath. This wasn’t about him, he didn’t have time to  _ regret  _ and make another dozen mistakes. He needed to be  _ right here, right now _ . Grabbing the mugs he had prepared, he steeled himself for a hard conversation.

He barely managed to set the Mugs down next to the claw before he had his arms full of crying Miles.

“I’msorryI’msorrypleasedon’thateme-” Horror laced through his gut.

“No, nononononono, Miles, baby boy,  _ no.  _ I could  _ never  _ hate you.” Aaron pulled Miles closer and cradled him to his chest, pressing his face into Miles’s hair as the kid broke down into heaving sobs. “I was scared Miles, that thing is not a toy, it can cut people.” 

_ It had cut people. _

Miles was crying, but it had lessened. His sobs had turned into sniffling. He was clinging and relaxing more and more by the moment. Aaron rubbed his hand up and down Miles’ back, trying his best to comfort him.

“Common, let’s get you to bed.” He rearranged Miles until he could stand with him securely in his arms. Miles sniffled and whined for a moment.

“Can I sleep with you tonight?”

“Of course you can.”

* * *

 

“So you’re a superhero?”

“Not, not really.” 

This was both easier, and harder than he had expected it to be. Sleep had been the key to feeling better for the both of them. MIles had woken up groggy and thirsty and Aaron had woken not much better. Had too good cry once Miles had fallen asleep. So first thing in the morning was a glass of water and breakfast. He might have a job with Fisk today so he had to be efficient about this. 

“But you wear a costume, and fight people,” Miles frowned at his cereal bowl for breakfast, “You wear a  _ cape _ .”

Aaron could feel a grimace pull at his expression even as something warm filled his chest.

“Fighting people and wearing capes are not what make people hero’s Miles.” Miles frowned and gave Aaron a disbelieving look. Aaron snickered, “You know how your dad was a hero?” he got a nod, “Yeah, he didn’t wear a cape.”

“He had that big coat.”

“Miles coats aren’t capes.”

“It could substitute.”

He laughed, let his face fall into his hands and groaned, he loved this kid but he was making this harder.

“Your dad was a hero because he followed the rules,”  _ god it was hard to instill a better moral compass in Miles than he had himself.  _ “His job was to make sure people were safe and protected, and to be sure that those that hurt or put people in danger got in trouble for it,”  _ god this was difficult.  _ Aaron never felt like Jefferson had. Why should he protect people who would have never given him a second glance, why should he upkeep the societal rules that had only ever put him in the dirt.

Why should he  _ care. _

But with Miles’ big innocent eyes looking up to him for answers he couldn’t bring himself to burden the kid with all the shit he had to endure in his life. Aaron sometimes felt like his life had been and endless spiral that just swept him up. Jefferson had been the one who was good at making the hard choices, and he had been good at seeing all the shit and trash of the world and knowing that wasn’t all there was. Aaron? He wasn’t.

But Miles could be.

So Aaron took a deep breath and  _ lied. _

“Everyone deserves a chance to do right, to be better, and hero’s give them that chance. A hero saves people from monsters and bad guys but also themselves sometimes. They uphold fairness and equality and fight for the rights of others,” he looked away from Miles, “I’m not a hero Miles, I beat heads and guard Alchemax for Fisk.”

Miles stared at him until he looked back. There was a spark to those eyes, full of determination and a fire that blazed.

“You’re  _ my  _ hero.” Aaron froze, emotion overwhelming him.  _ Oh no, he understood Jeff's Facetomb posts now.  _ He sucked in a breath.  _ Do not cry _ , Miles doesn’t need that baggage.

“Uncle Aaron?” He hummed, “Can I have a hug?”

“Yeah of course,”  _ oh no, he was too sweet.  _ How Jeff and Rio had managed this without getting overwhelmed he would never know. So he scooped Miles up as he came over, and held him close as he did his best to work through his extra emotions.

_ If he couldn’t see his face then he wouldn’t know he was crying. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank all of you who have been commenting, I really appreciate what you guys think and I am reading all of them!


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